


all i want for christmas (is you)

by Pidonyx



Series: Ballet AU [2]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27583073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pidonyx/pseuds/Pidonyx
Summary: It’s Nutcracker Season!
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Series: Ballet AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016266
Comments: 14
Kudos: 21





	all i want for christmas (is you)

**Author's Note:**

> ok i want to start off by saying yes i know it’s like mid november but im in a nutcracker mood even more than usual this year so now we have this and i not only wrote and finished it this week but im also happy with it (and i was told to post it so im just going to assume you guys don’t think it’s too early to be getting into the xmas spirit) and hey! ik christmas isn’t for everyone and that not everyone is religious/christian/etc so if that’s not your thing that’s cool! it’s a very secular christmas fluff fic so hopefully that helps a little too :>
> 
> anyways for those of you who liked my other ballet au ficlet i wrote another thing for that au because im still feeling self indulgent and i really needed to write something super super sweet and fluffy this week to get me through it so i hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> title is from ofc all i want for christmas is you by mariah carey/mcr

Damien’s been acting weird.   
  


Or, not weird exactly. More like secretive. Evasive. He’s been on the phone a lot. And even with their limited personal time, with Nutcracker performances every weekend and some in the middle of the week, plus full rehearsal days and class and all of the normal things on top of it, he’s still managing to be gone from the apartment more often than not.

It’s to the point where Alex is getting freaked out, but asking Damien about it gets vague, unhelpful answers, so he corners his brother before company class one morning to ask him about it.

Jamie just raises his eyebrows, seated on the floor rolling out his calf muscles. “Has he said anything about why he’s always busy?”

“No,” Alex says, trying not to sound hysterical. He hesitates, and then blurts, “Is he gonna break up with me?”

Jamie looks alarmed. “No? He hasn’t said anything to me, but...he loves you, ‘Lex. Everyone can see that. You guys are like...I dunno. That’s not what this is about, though, trust me. Look,” he rummages through his bag for a tennis ball, gesturing with it as he speaks. “If it’s important, he’ll tell you. If you’ve already asked him an’ he doesn’t wanna talk about it, I dunno that there’s really anything else you can do ‘bout it.”

And that was that. Alex has resorted to trying to wheedle the answer out through sheer willpower. At all times of the day. After company class. During breakfast. Cuddling while watching a movie. Backstage.

“‘M gonna get you to tell me,” they inform Damien over toast and cereal on a clear Wednesday morning. He smiles at them over the edge of his coffee mug, playful competition in his eyes.

“You’re not,” he says cheerfully, and kisses their cheek when he gets up to go get dressed for the commute to the studio.

“What is it?” Alex whispers into his ear when the ballet master’s back is turned to them during a rond de jambe combination at the barre. 

“Not telling you,” Damien whispers back, smiling wide enough to show his dimples.

“C’mon,” Alex says, in the corridor, leaning their chin on his shoulder while Damien refills his water bottle at the fountain.

He turns his head to press his nose into their cheek. “No.”

“Baby, please?” Alex says beseechingly, widening his eyes as much as they can, the stage makeup they’re wearing for Dewdrop probably making the gesture look ridiculous. Damien just squeezes their hand, looking a little guilty for the first time since Alex started asking.

“It’s a surprise, ‘Lex,” he says, mouth tilting up at the corner when that makes Alex blink.

“For me?”

“Yeah.” He shoots them a fond look, mock-annoyed. “So ‘m not gonna tell you.”

Alex has a hard time coming up with a counter argument to that, so they stick their tongue out at him.

*

They’re curled up together on the couch, Alex’s head tucked against Damien’s shoulder, his arm around their waist. It’s Alex’s triple-cast weekend which means he gets to pick the movie, so  _The Force Awakens_ is playing on the TV in the living room. They’ve just gotten to the part where Han Solo intercepts the _Millennium Falcon_ after the escape from Jakku when Alex grumbles and presses their face into the side of Damien’s neck.

He smiles against their hair. “Ice bath get too warm again?”

“Mngh.”

“Lemme go get you some IcyHot, ‘kay? We’ve seen this like a million times, you can keep watching ‘til I get back.”

Alex hums, kissing the skin under his ear. Damien drops an equally soft kiss on their forehead, before getting up and padding into the kitchen, taking the bucket with now-lukewarm water in it with him to dump out in the sink.

They sink back into the couch cushions, half-listening to the movie, half-listening to Damien shuffling around in the other room. They’re almost dozing off, blinking slowly against the bright synthetic light of the television, when the house phone rings. Alex can hear Damien answer it, and perks up, suddenly a lot more awake.

“Hey,” he says, voice muffled through the walls of the dining area. “Yeah, this is a fine time. Really? Already? No, that’s perfect. Great, I can come by any time between six-thirty and seven-forty-five tomorrow to pick it up. Thanks, yeah, you too, see you then.”

“Who was that?” Alex asks innocently when Damien comes back with a tube of IcyHot, squeezing a dollop out and starting to gently work it into the muscles of their feet, avoiding any open blisters. He smiles to himself, shaking his head.

“You know I’m not telling you,” he says. The cool fingers against their skin move from the arch of their instep to the Achilles’ tendon, carefully spreading the cream over particularly sore areas. “That starting to feel better?”

“Yeah,” Alex murmurs, leaning forwards to rest their forehead against his chest while Damien massages their aching muscles. He slips his arms around Damien’s waist, sighing. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The soft flannel material of his pajama shirt shifts under their hands when he leans to kiss them. “After th’ movie I’m gonna help you get to bed, an’ get the heating pad, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” they say softly, and Alex isn’t just talking about bed and a heating pad when they say it.

*

Alex straightens from the last bow of the show, waving at the children in the front row until the curtain is fully down, and then wasting no time grabbing Damien’s wrist and yanking him offstage.

He laughs as they impatiently pull him into the wings, radiant in his all-white-and-ice-blue Snow King costume, somehow not looking exhausted from the exertion, which has only made him look flushed and glowy and stupidly pretty, which isn’t fair purely because Alex is pretty sure their makeup is sweating off. They shove him into an abandoned corner of the darkened backstage, and he’s not laughing anymore because he’s kissing them, hard. Their tutu is getting rucked up, and the wardrobe master is probably going to yell at them about it later, but Alex just presses further into the kiss, hands sliding everywhere he can reach, over the silky fabric of Damien’s costume jacket.

“You are so goddamn gorgeous,” Damien whispers against their mouth, his own hands pressed firmly against the boning of their bodice like he can’t get close enough.

Alex groans, biting down on his lower lip, pushing him harder against the wall, where it’s probably getting black scuffs and dirt all over the back of his jacket, and not caring. “Wanna go home,” they murmur. “Can I take you home, sugar?”

“Yes,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around their neck to lever them down into another feverish kiss. “Yeah, let’s get out of these fuckin’ costumes and get out of here.”

Damien helps them with the hook-and-eye closures on their back when they’re back in their dressing room, pressing a soft kiss to the base of their neck when he’s done and turning around so they can wiggle out of the tutu.

“Don’ gotta look away,” they pant when they’re finally free of the costume, yanking a sweatshirt over their head. “‘S nothing you haven’t seen before, babe.”

“I’m tryin’ to be a gentleman,” Damien says teasingly, but he does look over his shoulder at them, warmth in his eyes that always makes Alex’s knees turn to jelly. They turn away, smiling to themselves as they pull on their sweatpants over their tights.

They toss their shoes into their bag when they’ve wrestled them off and wrapped them up, toeing on their sneakers and reaching for their coat and scarf on the back of their vanity chair. “There. Ready t’ go.”

Damien’s bundled up, face shiny and a little pink from scrubbing the stage makeup off, and he leans up into them when Alex tilts down to kiss him. “Hey,” he says, softly, when they pull apart. “‘M sorry for being so weird the past few weeks. I wanna tell you, promise. Jus’ really want it to be a surprise.”

“It’s fine,” Alex murmurs, and he’s only slightly surprised to find that it really is. He squeezes Damien’s hand. “‘M excited to see your magical fuckin’ Christmas miracle, baby.”

Damien kisses them again, slow and careful, hand sliding up and around the back of their neck, and by the time Alex leans back he’s panting. “C’mon,” he says. “Home.”

“Pizza and Netflix?” Damien asks coyly, eyes twinkling. He grins, looking sly. “Or did you have something else ‘n mind?”

“Let’s see how sore I am when we get there,” Alex murmurs against his ear, and acquiesces to one more sweet, warm kiss before he grabs Damien’s hand, dragging him bodily from the dressing room to a soundtrack of fond laughter.

*

Alex hums to himself as he puts a kettle on the stove to heat, absentmindedly running through an eight-count of steps from Sugarplum as they turn the burner on, and check their phone, waltzing through the kitchen.

Gentle hands catch their waist partway through the  _pas de deux_ and Alex smiles to themselves, half-hearted marking moving to something more solid. Damien hums the music along with them, balancing and lifting and taking their hand at the right times, even though their height difference makes it a little awkward. They catch his eye as he guides them into another promenade, and he grins, making a stupid face that has Alex struggling not to fall out of the turn with laughter. By the time they’ve gotten halfway through, they’re both giggling too hard to keep going, transitioning into something like a slow dance, swaying back and forth in the cool lights of the kitchen. Damien sings something else under his breath, a melody that’s probably from Sleeping Beauty, spinning them together next to the stovetop.

“Hi,” Alex says softly. Damien smiles at them, cheeks still pinked from the chill outside. His hair is damp, brushing against their jaw when he leans up to kiss him, and Alex looks to the window to see that snow is, in fact, falling heavy and soft across the cozy darkness outside.

“I thought you weren’t going to be back for a while,” Alex murmurs, sweeping a strand of hair behind Damien’s ear.

“I thought th’ thing I was going to check on would take longer than it did.” He kisses the back of Alex’s knuckles, lacing their fingers together and swinging their joined hands between them. “Good thing it didn’t, ‘cause it started snowing when I was walking the last bit back an’ I didn’t have any waterproof gear.”

Alex smiles, teasing. “Lemme guess, it’s part of your big secret surprise, an’ I can’t know about it.”

“Sorry.” Damien kisses their cheek, sighing softly against their shoulder when they return the favor. “I think you’re gonna like it though.”

“I trust you,” Alex says. Damien’s fingers are freezing where they’re tangled with his. “D’you want some hot chocolate? Was just making some when you came in.”

“I’d love some.” He presses his icy-cold nose into the side of Alex’s throat, laughing when they squeal and squirm away.

Alex can’t bite back the smile bubbling up, so he kisses Damien’s cheek again. “I’ll heat up some soup in th’ meantime. It’s the one day we actually get to eat on time, should take advantage of it.”

“Okay,” Damien says, and cuddles more firmly against their side. Alex sighs, slipping their arm around his waist to squeeze him tight.

“I love you.” They bury their face in his hair, smiling to themself. “My cavalier.”

Damien presses up into the contact. His thumb sweeps gently back and forth across their arm as they watch the snow fall outside, together. “I love you too.”

*

Alex is exhausted. It’s Christmas Eve, which for them at least meant two full performances of Nutcracker, with class in the morning, and by the time the ballet has ended in the evening, it’s 10:30 and Alex just wants to go home and sleep. He can’t do that, though, because Damien has coaxed them into going to see a lights display being advertised in the park a block from their apartment building. He looked so hopeful that Alex couldn’t say no, and now that they’re outside, with the cold, fresh air pinching their cheeks, they’re starting to feel a little more excited. 

The lights are, admittedly, beautiful, starting with a golden archway that welcomes guests into the park. Only a few groups of people are milling about, so late on Christmas Eve, so even with the snow piled in soft banks up against the sides of walkways it’s pretty easy to navigate. Alex points out a particularly pretty arrangement set in the middle of the pond, shaped like delicate swans wearing crowns and sailing smoothly across the still, half-frozen water. Further along, Damien pauses to look at a hanging Christmas-light spiderweb woven between the tree branches overhead. As they walk, Alex forgets all about the late hour and the cold and the slight ache in his feet and legs, and clings to Damien’s gloved hand, laughing behind the knot of his scarf whenever Damien makes up a story for the light displays, or cracks a joke, bumping their shoulders together.

“So, hey,” Damien says, sounding a little out of breath from laughter. “I know this isn’t probably what you wanted t’ do after two shows in one day, an’ I wanted t’ thank you for indulging me, y’know?” His eyes shine, sparks from all the lights around them sitting like stars against the darkness of the pupil. “My grandma loved light displays like this. It was one ‘f our family traditions for the holidays when I was little, ‘sides seeing the Nutcracker every year.”

Alex squeezes his palm. “‘M having fun. I can see this becoming a tradition, y’know, for us. Jus’ like with your grandma.”

Damien smiles at him, so soft and affectionate that Alex has to look away for a second, like they’re staring into the sun. Damien pulls him along, and they’re almost at the very end, with the illuminated ending gate declaring “Merry Christmas!” across the top in sight. Damien points at another display across the sidewalk, a rather charming scene of polar bears stacking and wrapping Christmas presents, lights flicking back and forth to make it look like the top of one of the boxes is popping off. The animated blonde elf inside reminds Alex inexplicably of Jamie, and he turns around to say something to Damien, who at some point has let go of their hand. Their mouth falls open.

Damien is kneeling in the snow, the gesture unmistakable, but more than that, when they can tear their eyes away from the shining, hopeful expression on his face, is the final light display behind him, which is bold and bright in cherry red and spring green and seasonal white lights and spells out “Marry Me?” in huge block letters.

“Surprise,” Damien says, sheepish grin ticking up at the corner. “So, um. I know this ‘s kind of cliché, with the, the big sign and Christmas Eve an’ everything. And maybe you’re thinking this is stupid, I dunno. But. This ‘s what I was planning, this month, y’know, I wanted it t’ be special for you, and —“ he yanks off one of his gloves with his teeth, digging in his pocket to emerge with a small, velvet box. “I love you. I want it to be you and me until we’re old, an’ as long as I can possibly get after that. So,” he gestures behind him at the lit up proposal, smile making his eyes go all sparkly and excited and creased at the corners. “Will you marry me?”

Alex tries to find words. They really do. But the moment they open their mouth, tears start streaming down their face, and they manage to choke, “Yes. Yeah, yes, yes, yes,” before they’re grabbing handfuls of the front of Damien’s coat and yanking him practically to his feet again to kiss him. The impact is bruising and the wetness on their cheeks is ice-cold in the winter air and even with everything it’s more perfect than Alex could have ever planned it. “Baby,” they murmur between kisses. “Baby, baby, baby, love you, I wanna get married, yes, I love you.”

When they remember, they pull back with a sharp, “oh!” and start digging in their pockets, hoping it’s on them somewhere. It is, thank god, even though Alex is pretty sure he moved it to his dance bag at some point, but he must have put it back because he pulls the ring they’ve been carrying around for  months out of their inner coat pocket, fumbling for Damien’s left hand. His expression is startled and delighted and Alex has to steel himself so they don’t just kiss him again without explaining. “Wanted t’ give this to you,” they say, breathless. “Wanted to ask you months ago, but I kept chickening out.” He laughs, more happy tears prickling at the corners of their eyes. “Good thing you’re braver than me, huh, sugar?”

“‘Lex,” Damien breathes, and reels them in with a firm hand on the back of their neck, the band a stripe of cool sensation against Alex’s skin. “Here,” he says, when he pulls away, opening the box with fingers clumsy from the cold, and sliding the ring over Alex’s left finger. The actual piece is beautiful, especially so in the twinkling lights of the park display, but they can’t look at it for more than a few seconds at a time, eyes only for their fiancé and the pull of his lips, the flush in his cheeks. “‘S a diamond an’ emerald an’ ruby, like Jewels, like when we got together,” he explains, and  _Jesus Christ._

Alex pulls him in, kissing hard, walking him backwards until Damien’s back is pressed against the wrought-iron fence. “I’m gonna take you home,” they murmur, fiercely. “An’ we’re gonna get celebratory engagement takeout an’ have awesome sex an’ then tomorrow we’re gonna go see our family an’ tell them ‘guess what, we’re getting married’ and it’s going t’ be the best holiday ever because I’m your fucking  _fiancée_ now and I fucking love you. ‘S that a solid plan, angel?”

Damien starts laughing, bright and happy and Alex must really be on some Hallmark-movie-magic bullshit because it sounds like Christmas bells. “Sounds like a plan, sweetheart,” he says, eventually, smile audible in his voice even with his face pressed into Alex’s shoulder. His hands are gripped tight in the fabric of their jacket sleeves, and for a moment, he sways them back and forth, to some music no one else can hear, like they’re in their kitchen again, humming the Nutcracker suite and dancing along. “I love you,” he says, again, and it sounds like a promise, like, to Alex’s ears, a Christmas miracle.

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick little explanation here if you aren’t super familiar with ballet:
> 
> in the nutcracker, which is one of the busiest times of year for ballet companies, soloists will often dance the sugarplum fairy and/or dewdrop while also being in the corps de ballet as a flower or snowflake. so a lot of the time especially with professional nutcracker productions dancers will be in multiple versions of the cast in different roles (which is what i meant regarding double or triple cast weekends, it basically just means the dancers are performing multiple times in different ‘casts’ which means they dance multiple times per weekend)
> 
> the dewdrop fairy, or just dewdrop, is a role danced in a lot of versions of the nutcracker as basically the ‘lead’ role in waltz of the flowers. here’s nycb’s version:  
> https://youtu.be/LKcZL8q1eBw
> 
> sugarplum is a longer role than a lot of people think, usually it’s the principal role of the nutcracker because in addition to the solo (dance of the sugarplum fairy) sugarplum also has a cavalier who performs the (long) sugarplum pas de deux. that pas de deux is one very close to my heart because it was the very first one i ever learned in my first ever partnering class, and the music is beautiful; here’s the royal ballet’s version (every production is slightly different. i didn’t learn quite this version but this one is one of my favorites):  
> https://youtu.be/qy6dlGpC3Ns


End file.
